


Turnabout

by mistyzeo



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anal Sex, Dildos, M/M, Oral Sex, Pegging, Sex Toys, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5947180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes wants to try something new; Watson is game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turnabout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vernets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vernets/gifts).



> For Basil, who is smart and kind and important.
> 
> (Watson's like, "Do you even lift, bro?" and Holmes is like, "with my vagina.")

"My dear Watson," Holmes said, clearing his throat, "I don't suppose you'd be interested in something a little… unusual tonight."

We were just home from the symphony, and he was taking off his overcoat as he said it. His silk scarf still hung around his neck, elegant and austere. I dragged my eyes back up to his face.

"Something unusual?" I asked casually. My heart was already beating a little faster.

Holmes removed his hat and scarf and hung them up carefully, smoothing his hands down the silk. "I— I believe it is something you have some desire for, but until now I have not… been equipped to provide it."

My eyebrows went up. I divested myself of my own outerwear as quickly as I could. "Would you like to continue this conversation upstairs?" I asked.

He swallowed and nodded, holding onto his cool exterior. He preceded me to the sitting room, and I locked the door behind us. He went into his bedroom while I crossed to pour us both a drink. He returned a minute later with something behind his back, and I set the glasses on the side table.

"What surprise do you have for me?" I asked, sidling close and passing a hand down his arm. I leaned in and kissed his cheek, the corner of his smooth jaw, the column of his throat. He brought it out, strangely hesitant. His face was flushed as I looked down between us.

He held in his hand an ivory phallus in the shape of an L, its shorter arm bulbous and its longer arm terminating in a deliberately carved head. I leaned back for a better look, and brought my hand up to touch it. It was smooth and warm, and I closed my fingers around its length.

"Where did you find this beauty?" I asked.

"A curiosity shop," Holmes said vaguely, his voice a little shaky. "Do— is it—?"

I let out a breath and kissed him to halt his uncertainty. "I can't wait," I said, and nudged my groin against his hip. I was half-hard, but I knew he'd be able to feel it.

"Good," he said, and dragged me back into the bedroom.

Two weeks ago, Holmes had put his fingers inside me while we were making love. This in itself was not a strange or shocking occurrence— I was very fond of the act— but the angle of our bodies had been just so that he had worked his hips against mine at the same time, pushing his fingers into me with the weight of his pelvis. I remembered sobbing and clutching him, caught up wholly in the fantasy. Having him fuck me was something we had never discussed, but his reaction to _my_ reaction had spoken volumes. I had been afraid to suggest it, worried that Holmes would take my desire as a slight. He did not have a cock, not one that he could fuck me with. Except, now it seemed he did.

We stripped efficiently, while the disembodied prick lay, tempting and obscene, on the quilts of Holmes's bed. As soon as his trousers were loose, I caught hold of him and slipped my hand inside, my fingers finding their way between his legs. He was positively dripping, his lips slick and wet, his clitoris swollen. He shuddered and grabbed at my wrist, shoulders rounding, his head dropping against my shoulder. He gasped my name.

I pulled my hand back and sucked my fingers clean.

He swore at me, blaspheming, and left his trousers and drawers in a messy heap. I followed suit, and we tumbled into bed.

"So, you wear it," I said, picking the phallus up. "That end goes inside you, and this end in me?"

He nodded, pushing his hair out of his face. "That is the general idea."

I grinned at him. "Will you let me?"

He lay back, arms stretched over his head. His nipples were pert and pink, tightened with desire. I lowered myself between his legs and indulged myself for a few minutes, licking at him until he squirmed and one hand found its way into my hair. He was breathless. "John!"

"Yes, sorry," I said, not at all sorry. I fit the rounded, bulbous end of the device against his sex and eased it in. He planted his heels on the bed and lifted his hips, and it slipped in easily. His internal muscles clamped down on the neck of the bulb and held it in place. "Ingenious," I murmured. "How does it feel?"

Holmes was looking down his body at me, his eyes wide. He shifted his hips and the prick waggled back and forth. I stuck out my tongue and licked it, from root to tip, and took the smoothly carved ivory head between my lips.

"By Jove," Holmes said.

It tasted like nothing at all, but the stretch of a cock in my mouth nevertheless made my own prick jump. Holmes's grip changed, and he pushed me down a little deeper. He fucked my mouth, his breathing changed. It was deeper, heavier, and intensely aroused. I pulled off with a wet pop and looked up into his pink face.

"How do you want me?"

"On your knees," he said, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He moved carefully, with the implement inside him, but when he knelt upright and it stayed in place, we both grinned. I acquiesced, getting down on elbows and knees, and he shifted to be behind me. His cock nudged my leg, and he pressed it against me more firmly.

His fingers were warm and slick, pressing into me, and his preparation a little sloppy. He was eager. Two fingers was enough, anyway. I turned my head and said, "Now, if you please."

"What do you want?" he asked, wicked as ever.

"Fuck me, Holmes," I said obediently.

"Hmm," he sighed, easing his fingers out. Then he was pressing the round head against my entrance and sinking in. I moaned as it split me open. He laid himself along my back, his hips against my backside. His pubic hair tickled my buttocks. His lips moved against the scar on my shoulder. "My Watson," he murmured.

"My dear boy," I replied fondly. My cock throbbed beneath me, neglected. It had been so very long since I'd felt so completely taken like this, speared and at a man's mercy. I put my head down and he kissed the back of my neck. Then he dug his teeth in around my last cervical vertebra and began to move his hips.

The phallus was more rigid than a prick, and not as hot, but it slid out of me smoothly and back in deeper than before, touching places that hadn't been touched in too long. I moaned again, muffling my ecstasy in the pillow, and Holmes growled in satisfaction. He fucked me slowly at first, relishing the sensation, but soon his pace was quickening.

"Does it affect you?" I asked.

"It—" he gasped, "it rubs me just so and—"

"Will it make you come?"

He nodded against my back, face hidden though there was no one to hide from.

"Good," I said. "Fuck me harder."

"John," he groaned. He sat back on his heels, pulling me with him, and I braced myself against the headboard. His hips worked with ferocious intensity, and then all at once he slowed, deliberately, and deepened his thrusts until I was whimpering with every one. His breathing was harsh in the otherwise-quiet room, and his hands gripping hard to my hip and shoulder.

I let go of the bed and reached down between my legs, thinking to ease my own mounting tension, but he beat me there, wrapping his long fingers around my cock. I bent my head, giving myself over to the powerful dual sensations. He leaned in and kissed my back and shoulder, stroking me in time with his thrusts.

"Holmes," I gasped, my crisis rising.

He pulled out, all at once, and I groaned at the loss.

"Turn over," he said. I obeyed, knees splayed, and he arranged me to his satisfaction among the pillows. Now he could bend and kiss my mouth as he sank back inside. "Is that all right?"

I nodded, clutching at his shoulders. "Yes," was not a strong enough word.

Holmes began to move against me once more, fucking me with the slow precision of a great scientific mind, watching my reactions. I let him see: my face flushed, my cock dripping, my breathing uneven. He took me in hand again, and I knew I would not last. He knew it too. He whispered, "Thank God," and braced himself on the bed beside me, the muscles in his arm standing out in sharp relief. I turned my head and bit his forearm. He bent his head and bit my neck. My cock swelled in his slick grip as my climax rushed upon me. I clung to him, lifting my hips into his every thrust, and I felt him spread his knees as his own orgasm threatened. He pushed into me and I pushed back, chanting his name like a benediction.

His lips moved against my throat and I lifted his chin to kiss him as he began to shudder. My cock twitched and spurted between us, the pleasure of his climax bleeding into mine. I wrapped my arm around him and held him close, and we kissed deeply until we both had trembled into stillness.

When he pulled away again, it was with a low groan of satisfaction. I winced, stretching my legs, and embraced him, belly to belly. I circled lazy fingers around his left nipple while he kissed my neck. His stiff ivory prick was cradled between us, jutting from the thatch of his dark hair.

"I admit, I feared it would slip out of you," I said, looking down at it.

Holmes bit his lip. "I… practiced. To make sure it would not."

I laughed, delighted, and nudged my thigh between his, pressing the rigidity of the prick against his pubis. He shuddered, over-sensitive, and I relented. "Well," said I, "I am only a little sorry you cannot wear it all the time. It would give people very much the wrong impression about you."

His eyes narrowed.

"In the presence of a murderer, dear one, that much enthusiasm would be _most_ inappropriate."


End file.
